When he tried to guide her toward discussions about previous relationships, she nimbly danced around it.
Opting not to force the issue, but adding it to a mental checklist of topics he wanted to pursue later in private, he let the subject drop. “So about tomorrow’s whip class.”
“Yes?”
“It starts at two. I’d like you there by one.”
“Why so early?”
“Because I have things I want to go over with you in private. I have a key to the club, don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
He stared at her until it became an uncomfortable silence. She finally caught on and asked, “What?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. She’d have to learn sooner or later if she was serious about going through this process with him.
Either that, or she’d quickly come to enjoy spankings.
She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“‘Okay’ isn’t the answer I wanted.”
She looked confused. Somehow, he kept from rolling his eyes at her. “The correct answer would be, ‘Yes, Sir.’”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He cleared his throat.
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
He smiled. “Good girl. And tomorrow, I want you to wear the black sundress you wore Sunday night when we met at the restaurant. No bra, and no panties unless you have a thong to wear under it.”
He barely held his amusement in check as her cheeks flushed with color. “No panties?”
“Like I said, you can wear a thong. But no, no panties. Unless you’re on your period.”
Her mouth opened and shut like she was trying to decide whether or not to argue. If she was going to balk at his orders, this would be the first one she’d challenge.
“Yes, Sir,” she finally whispered.
He broadly smiled at her, delighted to a nearly giddy level that she agreed to his demands. “Good girl.”
Part of her bristled. Then she realized she’d asked for this. Duh.
She didn’t have a thong. I’ll have to go shopping for one tomorrow morning.
“I can’t and won’t make you submit to me,” he continued. “That’s not something that holds any interest for me. Either you want to, or you don’t. If you want to then I expect you to respond not with yeah, or okay, or anything else like that. Yes, Sir. No, Sir.”
“Anything you say, Sir?”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “There is a term for submissives who like to mouth back. They’re called SAMs.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Smart-assed masochist.”
“Does this mean I’m expected to keep my mouth shut and do as I’m told?”
“No, not at all. It simply means there are, within the context of our D/s dynamic, proper ways to express yourself and your opinion. I’m not saying this is the way everyone does it, but it’s the way I do it. I don’t mind disagreement. It’s how that disagreement is presented. I expect a submissive of mine to behave in a respectful way toward me at all times regardless of whether they agree with me or not.”
“Hold on. You’re not going to pass me around to other Dominants or something, are you?”
“No.” He smiled. The damn, sexy smile that dampened her panties. “I do not share well with others. I should say, I don’t share at all. Not my desserts, not my implements, and damn sure not my submissives. The only time I will allow a submissive of mine to play with another Top is if that Top is skilled in something I’m not, I trust the Top not to harm my submissive, and the submissive must ask me for permission. I will never volunteer my submissive to do something like that. I’m a Dominant, not a douche.”
“I have a feeling there are a lot of things I’m going to have to learn.”
“Since I’m pretty busy, and since I prefer an independent submissive over a clingy person, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with my requirements. One requirement I will not bend on is I do not like drama.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged. “We’re both adults. What I expect from you is if you have a problem with something at any time that you code and talk to me about it. You don’t pitch a hissy fit, you don’t give me the silent treatment, you don’t play mind games, you don’t get passive-aggressive. And in return, I will give you the same respect.” He smiled. “The only mindfucks I engage in are in the middle of a scene. But I don’t have time or energy to deal with drama. I won’t hesitate to walk away from drama without a look back.”
“Sounds fair enough.” It’ll be a relief compared to James.
“By code, I mean you call red. It’s that simple. Whether it’s in the middle of a scene or like now, in the middle of a restaurant. You say red, and we stop and talk about whatever it is.”
“That simple?”
He nodded. “That simple. As for rules, for the basics, I want you to text me every morning when you get up, and every night before you go to bed.”
“Why?”
“Routine. We don’t live together. I want my submissive to have a routine to stick to when she can’t be with me.”
“Fair enough.” She took a sip of her tea.
“And you do not masturbate without texting me for permission first.”
She nearly spewed her tea over the table. “You’re not serious?”
She spotted his sly smile. “Oh, I’m absolutely serious. You want to do this or not?”
She blinked and studied him. His gaze never wavered from hers. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“But what if I don’t want you to have control over that?”
“Then you need to take that off the table now. But if you want orgasm play to be part of what we do, that’s one of my conditions.”
She swallowed hard. Her mind flashed back to the scenes she’d witnessed last weekend. And to the sexy, hot dreams she’d been having of Tony Daniels and his wicked, wicked ways.
As the seconds ticked by, his smile widened until he eventually said, “You’re not taking it off the table?”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes, either,” she shot back. “Sir.”
He smiled. “Good girl.”
Her pussy clenched. I’m single. He’s single.
Why the fuck not?
“Okay,” she whispered. “Sir.”
“Okay that orgasm control and play is on the table?”
She nodded.
Damn. And I’d just gotten my cock under control, too. Not that he was complaining. A chance to have this woman squirming under his hands?
Yes, please!
He would go slow with her, though. He didn’t want to scare her off. He damn sure didn’t want to pressure her to do anything she might regret later.
“Let me tell you my thoughts,” he said, “and you correct me if there’s anything you want to change. Okay?”
She nodded.
He’d let the lack of a verbal answer slip this time because he could tell she was still wrapping her head around the situation.
“Orgasm play. Not the first night out, perhaps, but once you’re comfortable. I’ll keep my clothes on and only use hands or toys on you. And I won’t let anyone else touch you.”
She nodded.
“The reason I want you to hand over control of your orgasms to me is psychological,” he explained. “If you can’t have them when you want them, you want them all the more. That makes you more receptive during training to the reward phase.”
“Reward phase?”
He smiled. “Yes, reward.” He reached across the table and gently touched his index finger to the center of her forehead. “I’m going to show you how easy it is to rewire a brain to crave pain with pleasure.”